


Stammi Vicino

by mairieux



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fluff, IT'S SO FLLUFFY ISFG, In my fic at least, M/M, MAKKACHIN LIVES BTW, Post canon, TIME TRAVELLING SHAZZAM, also confident yuuri, not really more like on dreams and shit, very light angst that u have to squint, water my crops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 21:06:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8683366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mairieux/pseuds/mairieux
Summary: Katsuki Yuuri, unable to sleep due to being wracked with nerves and anxiety, finally passes out in his hotel room the night before his first grand prix final. And when he wakes up? He has no idea why he’s suddenly sleeping so close to a mop of silver hair.

  They lay there, silently. Yuuri’s heartbeat is surprisingly calm, as if he’s used to cuddling with Viktor Nikiforov for years and years. Viktor’s quiet, too, as if he’s falling asleep again, just that this time, he’s clinging more on Yuuri with his face buried on his shoulder.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Genre: It’s kinda angsty(very VERY ! light) at the beginning (u kno, the usual katsdon yuuri (tm) angst ya’ll signed up for) but it turns fluffy (very!!!!! It might give u diabetes) in the uh twist (?) yes  
> Warnings: naked cuddling and uh mentioned sexual activities (nothing explicit sdhjajhdf), mild swearing, viktor being viktor  
> Words: 2,679 geys  
> A/N: holla!!!! It’s ye pal aliceviktorsbitch back at it again at the *finger guns + dan howell voice* homoerotic ice skating. Anyway, i really love time-switch fics where the characters end up in the future like 2 or 3 years later where didnt see any of this happening. I’m not sure if this has been done before for the yoi helldom and i’d love to be the first one to do it lollllll  
>  **unbeta'd** so pls point out if u see mistakes thanks  <3

“Yuuri!”

Ugh. There he goes again.

“You should catch up some sleep while we’re in a plane!” His coach, Celestino, probes once more, with his voice being heightened by his Mediterranean accent. “You need to relax when you still have the chance!”

“It’s fine, Celestino,” Yuuri reassures, probably for the umpteenth time, cracking another smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll get some sleep when we get to the hotel.”

At least, he thought so.

Even when they arrived, where Celestino worked him to the bone in the ice rink during the practice sessions allotted. Yuuri was _sure_ he was ready pass out on his bed.

Except he still didn’t get to head back to his hotel immediately when his Swiss friend, Christophe, dragged him for a drink. Of course, the Japanese tried his best to refuse as he didn’t really want to compete tomorrow with a pounding headache.

_How do Europeans do this all the time?_

And Phichit- he’s a blessing and curse. When he arrived at the scene, Phichit managed to change the idea of drinking out to eating at this famous Russian restaurant instead.

Anyway, at the end, it’s not like Yuuri could’ve anything better.

* * *

Yuuri left the restaurant as early as he was able to – ten-thirty. Needless to say, he fumbled around Sochi, unable to read the Cyrillic letters all over the place.

So in the end? He stumbled home to his hotel room at eleven pm instead.

Great! He can finally get some sleep right?

_Well-_

He takes off his coat and hangs it on a chair, breathing at the slight relief of the heavy clothing being gone. Biting his lip, he debates whether he should take a shower.

The only con of taking a shower, after all, is feeling a little bit more awake once you’ve stepped in so Yuuri judges for the better.

* * *

Alright- so; he’s showered, he’s ordered room service of chocolate crepe as a treat to himself (not that he already ate on some high class restaurant earlier already or something), he’s called his mum and dad on the phone, he’s rehearsed his short program for tomorrow in his hotel room- and all of these leaves Yuuri one question:

_Why can’t sleep?_

Of course, he knows that it’s probably the anxiety creeping up on him as usual, and the remorse of him being unable to be on Vicchan’s side when he passed away still weighed heavy on his shoulders.

_But I’ve been tired and worn out the whole day_.

There’s a little shiver when the air-con hits his naked back so he sighs to himself, turning on his bed, this time facing the window wall the hotel had. It showed all the lights around Sochi and he thinks it’s absolutely beautiful.

It’s already insane that he managed to be a Grand Prix finalist, the top six skaters in the world, and that he’s about to compete with his _idol_ since he was like, a damn fetus.

Deep breaths, yeah, that’s a thing.

Tomorrow, he gets to see Viktor Nikiforov.

Well- it’s not like he hasn’t seen him in the flesh before, oh no. It’s just, that this time? He’s competing with Yuuri.

Yuuri, Katsuki Yuuri from Hasetsu, Japan, probably just got lucky and managed to be a third-rate finalist for the Grand Prix finalist, is going to compete with Viktor tomorrow.

He doesn’t exactly know what he’s supposed to feel. Like, he’s nervous, of course. He’s also scared, terrified, as if his feet have gone frozen even if he’s not on ice right now. But in the mess of emotions he has in his body right now, there’s a little warmth.

Perhaps excitement? Confidence?

Although, he’s never had the latter in his skating career. Maybe once in a blue moon it’ll appear. Like right now.

_God_ , does he really think he can beat Viktor, _Viktor Nikiforov – Russia’s living legend_ – in the grand prix finals?

Obviously not.

His body isn’t even in the right weight for a figure skater right now, and he’s still a little glum from what happened to his dog – he obviously couldn’t compete in such a grand competition tomorrow.

With one last turn and sigh, Yuuri tightly shuts his eyes, hoping that at least in the morning, he’ll feel a little better.

* * *

Yuuri’s left eye opens first in the morning, and he doesn’t see anything.

_Have I gone blind in my sleep?_

With his panic in mid-rise, he realises that it’s only his left eye that’s been opened.

Slightly hesitating, his right eye peeks open slowly.

And silver.

Lots of silver.

_What?_

_Is it – is it a wig?_

He brings his free hand to tough the silver mop, and feels how soft it was. It was almost too thin and silky that Yuuri almost thinks he’s touching actual hair –

_Wait_.

Hold the fucking phone.

Phichit has probably planned this – this is probably some expensive anime hair on some human balloon or something. He probably knew Yuuri was feeling like at death’s door from yesterday, so he did the best thing he could: prank Yuuri first thing in the morning.

“ _Jesus Christ_ ”, Yuuri grumbles to himself as he sits up on the bed, “I can’t believe Phichit broke in- wait.”

This hotel room is different.

 

 “Yuuri?”

The man feels his blood run cold.

“Awake already?”

Why is the wig _talking_?

“It’s not yet time for practice though,” practice? What practice? _Oh my God if this was Celestino- “_ it’s _too_ early to even practice. Let’s skip today...”

_What????_

“Celes-“ And suddenly, he’s pulled down back in the bed again, a firm hand gripping his arm.

“Who are you calling Celestino, moy solnyshko?” Then Yuuri sees it. A clear blue, almost as if he’s staring at the sky inside his room.

“Vi... Vik-“ Stutters come out instead, as he feels his throat go dry.

“Still half asleep?” The person in front of him chuckles, “I didn’t go too rough last night didn’t I?”

Giggling, said man nuzzles forward to rest his face on Yuuri’s neck – and Yuuri blushes an intense red when he feels wetness on his skin.

“Viktor...?” He finally manages to say after seconds of shock. And _God_ , the man in front him responds to the name- and his face finally comes to clear view.

“What’s wrong, Yuuri?” Viktor smiles at him as if there was nothing unusual going on.

“Why- why are you... sleeping... n-next to me?” He fumbles over his words, and the heat just grew more on his cheeks.

Then Viktor lets out a scandalised gasp.

“Why! Yuuri’s being cold to me again!” The silver-haired man whines dramatically, “After winning yesterday and me _lavishing_ you last night, you pretend as if you don’t want to sleep next to me like the first time we met!”

_Winning? Lavishing? First time we-_

“Sakhar, just winning gold in the grand prix finals for the second time doesn’t mean you get to treat your boyfriend - and coach! – like that!” Viktor’s whining again, wrapping his arms around Yuuri, almost as if he’s tying him down.

And it’s too much information for Yuuri at once. Did his idol – keyword: _idol_ – just called himself Yuuri’s coach _and_ boyfriend? And _wait_ , grand prix finals – gold – second... time...?

Christ, he doesn’t know what to say at all.

‘I’m just kidding; I don’t hate you’. (Not that it was a lie in the first place- oh, it’s _very_ far from a lie).

‘I’m sorry, I don’t remember anything’?

‘I thought you’re straight’?

Or actually, ‘Please get your hands off me’.

Yuuri thinks the last one will make Viktor whine more, and the second and third are just plain rude, so he settles for the first one – to just go with it, he supposes.

“Sorry, sorry,” a small laugh (that actually sounds real) comes out from his mouth, smiling at the process, “I’m kidding, _come here_.”

It’s almost overwhelming how Viktor immediately clings to him like a metal to a magnet, accompanied with another squeal of, “Yuuri!”.

They lay there, silently. Yuuri’s heartbeat is surprisingly calm, as if he’s used to cuddling with Viktor Nikiforov for years and years. Viktor’s quiet, too, as if he’s falling asleep again, just that this time, he’s clinging more on Yuuri with his face buried on his shoulder.

_This is probably a dream,_ _it’s impossible for this to happen_.

So Yuuri almost had no reason to be curious to what happened before, to last night, to _how the fuck did I end up cuddling stark naked to my fucking idol who’s claiming he’s my damn boyfriend and coach?_

Praying for the best, Yuuri decides to ask slowly.

“Viktor?” There’s an “ _mmn_ ” sound coming from below and it sounds like it’s something positive so he continues, “was last night- was _yesterday_ really that amazing?”

The other sits up, his both hands on both sides of Yuuri’s chest and his face so dangerously close that their sharing breaths, “why do you ask, hm?” There’s a faint smirk playing by his lips, and Yuuri feels more strings tug at his heart.

“Of course last night was amazing,” Viktor leans even closer, and there’s a soft pressure on his lips and – oh – he’s _kissing_ him. Yuuri tries his absolute best to not melt and run. “Who knew you could ride me twice and still manage to cum from my tongue alone? No one else of course except-“

“Viktor!” He lost it, he already couldn’t take all this information overload, he’s got his fucking idol lying naked on top of him who just _kissed_ him, and now he’s starting to talk dirty to him and- Katsuki Yuuri is just a simple man.

“My bad, Yuuri,” and the Russian giggles, the corner of his eyes wrinkling from all the smiling, “of course yesterday was incredible. You just keep surprising me!”

Yuuri plans to ask more, but when another heavy weight dropped on top of Viktor, he keeps his mouth shut for now.

“Makkachin!” It was a dog- Viktor’s dog, he recognised immediately when it started lapping their faces. Yuuri laughs in delight as Makkachin licks his face more, missing the feeling of “dog” per se.

The other man backs off a bit, and Yuuri sees him with a slight pout, “why does Yuuri seem happier seeing Makkachin than me?”

God, he doesn’t know how he managed to _harness_ Viktor Nikiforov, “hottest bachelor in the world” as said by the media, to such goo when Yuuri won’t pay attention to him in the slightest.

With a little bit more confidence, he leans up to press his lips on Viktor’s; he’s hesitating slightly as he still couldn’t really take everything in and is trying his best, actually.

“Guess you just have to try to keep getting my attention then,” with the faintest hint of blush on his cheeks and his mind yelling ‘I can’t believe I just said that!!!’, he jumps off the bed, leaving Viktor astounded.

He locates the bathroom immediately, and heads to take a shower of some sort, not until he hears another cry of “ _Yuuri!_ ”

* * *

Viktor apparently doesn’t want to go out today, as he said that “the media is still on their feet for you”.

The black-haired man didn’t know what he meant until he turned on the telly, and the recap of what happened yesterday was playing.

They missed the recap on Yuuri’s “performance” but after that was a throwback to when Yuuri first got his silver on his second grand prix finals.

_So according to the tv_ , _I’ve been a grand prix finalist for four years consecutively_ , he processes slowly as the woman listed small facts about him.

Then, a part where they retold how the year when Yuuri won silver on his second year caught his eye; not because he couldn’t believe that he actually got silver, but instead of how was wearing one of Viktor’s old costumes.

It was the black costume – the costume Yuuri saw him wearing the first he saw his performance ever since he was young. How did he- oh right.

His eyes trained to Viktor who was dozing off on the couch with Makkachin on his lap, a little drool on the corners of his mouth.

_So cute and so defenseless._

This is when Yuuri realises that Viktor Nikiforov is literally his.

Even the woman from the tv says so!

Viktor apparently flew to Japan two years ago just to become his coach after seeing him skate his free skate program, “Stay close to me”, on a viral video.

Now, Yuuri couldn’t even fathom the fact that he managed to skate Viktor’s routine, let alone flawlessly, how could accept it all in the idea that Viktor _flew across countries_ just to become _Katsuki Yuuri’s_ coach?

She also says that, apparently, and Yuuri quotes, “Even if Nikiforov used to be the person Russia wished for the most, people had already been claiming they’re more than a coach and a student ever since he became Katsuki’s coach for his first year. Rumours came to rest when their relationship was boldly announced after Katsuki’s free skate in the Cup of China two years ago.”

Huh.

_Mine_. _Viktor Nikiforov is literally mine_.

He doesn’t know whether to thank the heavens that all of his happened, even if it was a dream (it most definitely is because _come on now_ ).

As Yuuri smiles softly, he stands up from his chair and joins Viktor in the couch.

Of course, the Russian man wakes up. But he’s smiling. And Makkachin jumps to the floor, leaving them more space.

“Hey coach,” Yuuri tells him light-heartedly while carefully climbing on top of him.

“Hi,” he doesn’t know why he hasn’t gone blind yet from all the smiles Viktor is giving blow after blow. “... student.”

“It would rather appear we’re _long_ past just that,” Honestly? Yuuri doesn’t know where all this confidence is coming from. It just felt so... natural.

“I know!” Viktor is laughing, with his hands pulling Yuuri closer, just as close as they were back in bed.

There’s a quiet moment, and Yuuri feels like he’s drowning while looking at the skies when he looks at Viktor face to face.

And with another burst of confidence, he finally kisses full on the lips. Not just some peck, or press, like earlier. He can feel Viktor’s lips moving against his, and a whimper escapes from Yuuri’s mouth.

“What’s with you and this sudden confidence? Is my spicy katsudon still in sale after all?” The Japanese has no idea how and why is Viktor calling him his favourite food, but to be actually honest, he couldn’t give a fuck right now.

“No idea,” he admits and joins their lips once more. The kiss gets deeper and deeper, and Yuuri even could feel the heat coming from Viktor’s cheeks.

“Hm. Guess I’m just that good at my job then!” Viktor exclaims so loudly, and without any warning he bites onto Yuuri’s neck and sucks a mark. “After all, I’m the one who’s supposed to make you feel confident.”

_Yeah_.

_This is fine_.

Well, at least until he wakes up, or something.

But Katsuki Yuuri is a simple man. He may be dreaming off in his hotel room in Sochi right now, but for now he’s going to enjoy this little dream of his where he can be actually happy.

Maybe when he wakes up, and time passes, he’ll be as happy as he is in this dream, too.

**Author's Note:**

> moy solnyshko means my sun (honestly this is so cute i want to call my gf that too;;; @santi if ure reading this somehow then HI MOYA SOLNYSHKO ;=)))))))) ))  
> sakhar means sugar (?) i think
> 
> kudos and comments makes my gay heart happy and it waters my crops but u know what makes me the happiest?   
> Makkachin Lives.
> 
> ╰( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )つ──☆*:・ﾟ


End file.
